


Lover's Touch

by orphan_account



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Is it really even explicit, Is it really even sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 11:08:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9892850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kiibo takes off his clothes.





	

His shoulders are so nice.

It's a strange thought. _I'm jealous_ , and he really is, thinking over how thin his own frame is. Even though Kiibo is so much shorter than him his build is solid, it's strong, and Saihara is jealous. _Though, he isn't actually as strong as he looks..._ He rubs his fingers under Kiibo's collar, into his neck in small circles. "How does that feel?"

Kiibo is blushing, completely red, his mask slammed up to cover his face, eyes shut. "U-um... it feels really good, Saihara," he mumbles under his breath, muffled by the covering. The way he breathes it out is almost like a moan, and Saihara can feel the pressure from his fingers increase, feel himself press a little bit harder at that. Hah. He doesn't really want to admit to himself the way that sound affects him, but... well, it didn't really matter much here, did it?

"So, yeah," he clears his throat, pushes those thoughts away, "people in relationships do stuff like this. More than just holding hands... there's hugging, and kissing, and just touching, and..." he feels himself turn red, not really sure if he wants to say it, Kiibo is just too innocent, "...sex."

"A-ah... Saihara... I-I'm sorry, but, I really don't have any functions for that..." _You could just get something installed_ , he can't help but think (and he's embarrassed about thinking it as soon as he does).

"W-well... I wasn't saying that we needed to do... that. People usually date for awhile before they do... that." He sighs. "But, it's alright." He leans forward, resting his head on Kiibo's shoulder, the stiff metal of his collar cool against his forehead, and closes his eyes. It's obvious the feeling isn't human, cold and stiff and hard, (unnatural), but being so close to somebody, just sitting here, together, it's relaxing. An escape. He could just drift off to sleep.

He brings his other hand down and wraps it around Kiibo's waist (eliciting a low noise of surprise), hugging him closer to his own body, his fingers running over the metal plates in an absent-minded way. "...Kiibo?"

"Mmm?"

"Sorry... it's kind of a weird question, but... is this actually your body?" It did seem like he could feel touch through it, but, still. He's curious. He taps at his side. "Or is there something... underneath?"

"Uhm... well..." He's shy, eyes averted as he answers the question. "It's... not my body. I don't take it off since I don't need to... that, and I don't have any other clothes."

 _What's underneath?_ There's no way he's going to ask... he's burning red even thinking about it. So what if Kiibo wasn't a human? He wasn't just going to ask him to take off his clothes. He's... really curious now, though.

It's quiet for a bit before Kiibo speaks up again, quiet and uncertain. "...I can show you, if you want. Is that why you brought it up?"

"Uhm..." Well, he wasn't wrong. And now it's his turn to be bashful. "W-well, if you're okay with it, Kiibo. I don't want you to do anything if you're not sure."

In response Kiibo gently moves his hands away before getting up and turning to face him, now so red it almost looks like he's glowing. He really does blush a lot. "I don't mind."

His hands are clumsy as he moves to undo straps around his wrists, pulling off a pair of heavy gloves. His top is next, and it comes off more easily, just a press of a button and it opens up like a jacket. He pulls it off the same way, putting it neatly next to the gloves on the bed. The way he moves is practical and simple, if somewhat shy, nothing about it teasing at all. Then he moves down to his belt and—

"K-Kiibo! A-are you sure about that?" He sweats. Was he really going to get completely naked?

"Why? Is there an issue?" He stops, confused. Then it hits him. "Oh! Like I said, I don't have any reproductive function, so the thought you would be uncomfortable didn't occur to me... I'm sorry, Saihara. Should I stop?"

Well. He'd forgotten in the moment. "No... it's fine."

So he removes the rest.

And there he is. Without the armor, he's even more starkly artificial. Unlike his face, his body is entirely made of smooth metal without any covering, empty spaces in between his joints.

And, like he said, there's nothing except a blank expanse of metal in between his legs.

"That's it," he says shyly, gaze averted. Ah... he realizes he's been staring. Saihara breaks it off and tries to meet his eyes instead. He's not really sure what to say. _You really, really look like a robot?_ Yeah, he's sure that would go over well.

Kiibo moves to sit down on the bed next to him, just a little bit too far away, legs pressed together, closed in on himself and uncertain. "I wish... my body could be different. I can't really do romance like this." He stretches out an arm up in front of him, turns it experimentally. It glints in the light. "I always say I'm just like a human... but how can I when it's so easy to see I'm different?"

He brings his hand down next to Saihara's, looks at them sadly. Side by side... a human hand. A metal mimic.

He... really had no clue Kiibo felt that way. He follows Kiibo's gaze and looks down between them.

Kiibo's hands are larger than his, fingers delicate, elegantly machined. Saihara considers it carefully for a moment before he reaches over and takes it gently into his own hand. Kiibo shudders at the sudden grasp. "It... feels different like this. Like we're closer," he says, to Saihara's questioning expression. "Even when I wore clothes, I always wore gloves," he explains. "My hands are very precise... the Professor didn't want me to damage them."

"Oh, should you put your gloves back on then?"

"...not yet. I... like how this feels."

Saihara moves closer to him and Kiibo seems to shrink back. "...you shouldn't feel like you need to be like a human, Kiibo. You're... really special. You don't have to be like everyone else."

"Do you really think that, Saihara?"

"Yeah."

It seems to make him happy.

He looks over at Kiibo's body again. It's interesting... not really interesting to him in "that way", not really... arousing, but it fills him with a sense of curiosity. How would Kiibo feel if he touched him? How would he react? He wonders if anyone else had ever had the opportunity to try something like this before.

"Kiibo... can I touch you?"

"H-huh?"

"You... seem more sensitive this way. I want to show you what it's like when... when lovers touch each other."

"Eh?! Saihara?!" He assumes Kiibo just tried to put up his face mask, but, since he can't, he ends up clapping a hand over his mouth instead as he stares over at Saihara nervously. "D-didn't you say you're not supposed to do that until dating for awhile?!"

"I-it's not sex." He says it defensively, but he doesn't really have any other rebuttal.

They're silent for awhile, unable to look at each other. But, eventually—

"Um... okay."

"Okay?"

"Y-you can do it. I want to try." Kiibo shuffles closer on the bed until they're thigh to thigh. "But... S-Saihara... could you... k-kiss me first?"

"Yeah." They've already gone this far. What's a kiss? "Right now?"

"U-um... yes..."

He leans over, his knees bumping into Kiibo's as he does, wraps an arm behind his back (feels a shudder run through Kiibo's entire body), and pulls him forward into a kiss.

Kiibo is stiff and hard, but there's a human warmth to him, a flex and bend and shiver that makes him alive, if different. But his lips... they're soft. No different from a human's. Not what he was expecting at all.

He pulls back, exhales. "So?"

He doesn't look like he can talk right now. He's burning red. The way he looks...

Saihara takes the opportunity to pull him in for another kiss, brings him closer, presses them together chest to chest. There's a resonance there, a reverberation, though he can't say if Kiibo has a heartbeat or if he's just feeling the echo of his own. He strokes Kiibo's back (metal, smooth like gloss) as he breaks it off, breathing hard, gazing into his eyes.

"How was it?"

Kiibo makes a noise somewhere between a whine and a whimper. "D-don't stop." He leans back, arches into his hand, closes his eyes. Saihara doesn't.

Honestly, it's nothing like touching a human. Though he's warm, his body is solid, with none of the softness of flesh. Like touching a doll. _But the way he moves, the way he sounds_ , it makes up for it, Saihara thinks, eyes fixed on Kiibo as he trembles, the little noises he makes from something as small as a hand on his back. He must have never experienced anything like this before.

 _I can forgive myself for this_.

He slowly brings his other hand down on Kiibo's thigh, fingers first until his whole palm lays flat. He jolts at the touch. "That—!"

Saihara pulls back. "Is, is it okay?" It comes out throaty, hoarse, and he clears his throat self-consciously.

"N-no... it's okay. I just... didn't expect it. You can do it."

He's nervous now. It feels like it's too hot, like he needs to loosen his collar as he moves his hand back down. He doesn't, but...

"So, Kiibo," he starts, his voice measured, trying to pretend this is in any way an intellectual exercise, "t-this is what lovers do. It... feels good right?"

Okay, it's not really helping. He gulps.

He glides his fingers further up and in, downwards, carresses the underside of Kiibo's thighs. "A-ah..."

That moan... it unsettles him, sinks down into his stomach like hot fire. Ignore it. _Ignore it_ , he demands of himself.

"U-usually, u-uhm," he's having a hard time finding the words. "Reproductive functions," he blurts out, like that means anything. If he could turn any redder he would but he can't. He's pretty sure he's shaking. Not that Kiibo is in any state to notice.

He's not even sure why he's trying anymore but he can't stop. "U-usually. There's something else to touch—" And he's thinking about that something else pretty hard right now. But then Kiibo pushes forward into his hand, pulls him closer, "—uh. I think... you're feeling something like that regardless."

He slides his fingers those last few inches down into the nothing in between Kiibo's legs and Kiibo's entire body trembles, his legs clamping tight around him and pushing his fingers down, desperate for his touch. He moans, face feverish, hands pressed against his face like he's hiding. "Saihara—! I-I... I'm sorry, I can't stop! I—I don't know what this feeling is!"

"I-it's okay."

 _So much for it not being sex_ , he thinks, staring at Kiibo's thighs wrapped around his hand. _But is it really sex if there's nothing there?_

He presses up against the metal (and there really is nothing to differentiate it from any other part of him, other than the response he's getting) there, rubs into it and Kiibo closes his eyes, starts to grind against his touch. "I-it... feels r-really good, Saihara!"

It's a strange feeling, having Kiibo shake and tremble around him.

"S-Saihara..."

He just sits and listens as he works on him.

It doesn't take much longer until Kiibo stiffens up and shudders, letting out a loud groan that Saihara's sure is going to be etched into his memory forever. His legs finally loosen and Saihara pulls his hand free gingerly, deeply embarrassed.

(And something else, too, but he'd rather not talk about that.)

"Um... t-thanks, Saihara."

"N-no problem."

"We can do more next time..." Kiibo trails off.

Saihara can imagine.

**Author's Note:**

> Except there's not going to be a next time because writing this killed me. I'm dead right now.  
> I wish I could commission other people to write stuff for me instead because I hate writing.  
> But I love this pair. I do it for them.


End file.
